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by TheBrideOfTheWind



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrideOfTheWind/pseuds/TheBrideOfTheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on Murphy's "surprise encounter" in 3x12.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> My first published fanfiction ever, i hope it's not too bad ;-)

Something was off. Definitely. It was close to midnight now and Ontari had not yet returned. He thought he heard screams earlier coming from outside, but maybe he had just imagined it. Maybe he had made a habit of imagining things. Imagining to be somewhere else. With someone else.

Murphy sighed, lying back on his pile of furs on the floor because he didn't have the stomach to sleep on the bed. He closed his eyes again and waited. Not that he could do anything at all in the position he was in. Maybe at least he got a moment alone till she came back.

Not much later he dozed off into sleep, only to be startled by the faint creak of the door opening and someone sneaking into the room. He didn't dare to breathe. Sure this wasn't Ontari coming back, no need for her to enter like this. The other person was breathing heavily but didn't move. Opening his eyes he peeked from underneath the furs to where the person was hiding in the shadows.

The room was nearly pitch-black, only lit by the dim glow of the moon shining through the window and a few candles. It was definitely a man, that was all he could tell in the twilight.

When the man's breath had evened, he stepped out of the corner, put his gun into his belt and walked towards the window, clearly distressed.

The light shone on his face, illuminating it softly. There was something familiar about him. Something about the way he moved. Something about the way his dark curls were sticking to his neck and his freckles that brought back some memories.

A boy, he once admired. A boy kissed by the sun. Brown eyes and freckles.

Then other images. The crowd. Dragging him. A red seat belt. Him begging. Saying his name over and over again. The crate being kicked from beneath him. Broken trust. Revenge. Redemption.

Murphy coughed awkwardly, trying to muffle the sound by pushing his coat over his mouth. He dug himself deeper into the furs, yet in vain. A second later they were roughly pulled away from him, revealing no one else than Bellamy Blake, staring at him with a mix of surprise and shock.

"Murphy?" he whispered, taking in the way he was curled up in himself, the blood on his face and last the chains around his neck. He seemed so delicate, so breakable. When he reached his hand out to touch him, the younger boy shivered and tried to move away.

"Hey, it's me, it's me. You are going to be okay," Bellamy said cautiously, his thumb slightly grazing Murphy's cheek. The other boy just gazed at him with wide eyes, a lonely tear streaming down his face. "I’m going to get you out of here, I promise." Murphy nodded, giving him a tiny smile full of sadness.

What happened to him, Bellamy wondered, remembering the boy when they first met, an intoxicating combination of energy and anger. The boy who was afraid of nobody. The boy with a sharp tongue, always a sarcastic remark on his lips.

That boy is gone, he thought, looking at him lying there, all creamy white skin and rosy lips, yet so damaged.

"Are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to do something?" Murphy sneered and Bellamy couldn't help but smile at this glimmer of his old self.

"I don't even know, where I am."

"In the commander's chamber," Murphy replied, suddenly having a panic-stricken look on his face. "She may come back soon. You better hurry to get out of here if you want to survive," Murphy said hastily, still with fear in his eyes. Bellamy hesitated. "I’m not leaving without you!"

Then something in Murphy's face changed. "Please Bellamy, don't you have some princesses to save?" he snarled, emphasizing the word princesses mockingly. "Or dragons to kill? We both know you like to play the hero, but come on, at what cost? Don’t you go and try to tell me you and the others gave a fuck about what happened to me!"

"And now you come to my rescue like the knight in shining armour helping the poor damsel in distress? I did fine without you, I don’t need you!"

Murphy was fuming with rage, now standing just a mere centimeters away from Bellamy's face.

The older boy swallowed heavily and then started to speak, when he caught a glimpse of the way Murphy looked at him expectantly, cheeks flushed, pupils wide, his dark messy hair a stark contrast to his blue eyes and fair skin. It took his breath away. A moment later he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips on the other boy's mouth. Murphy's lips left a surprised "oh", then he curled his fingers into Bellamy's jacket and kissed him back.

He had dreamed of this. Dreamed of Bellamy's lips on his, and not hers. Dreamed of the way his body would feel against his, instead of hers. Dreamed of his strong arms holding him, keeping him safe. It was too good to be real. Nothing good ever happened to him.

In this moment the door flew open and Ontari was storming into the room. "I told you what would happen if you ever hurt me or betrayed me," she hissed, pushing Murphy out of her way heading for Bellamy.

He tried to reach for his gun, but she was faster, cutting his cheek with her blade and knocking the gun out of his hands. Bellamy stumbled, losing his balance, when she swept his legs out from under him.

He now was lying on the floor helplessly while she smiled at him, then took a knife and pinned his hand to the ground. Howling in pain he reached for her with the other hand, but she twisted his arm dislocating his shoulder. She then commenced to sit on his legs, immobilizing him completely.

That's it, he thought. He couldn’t fight back anymore. It was over. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow. But nothing happened. Instead he felt her weight shifting on him, heard a choking noise and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw Murphy, strangling her with the chain bound to his neck. The look on his face was one of pure determination.

Ontari was a warrior and Murphy weakened, yet he managed to hold an iron grip. She was gasping for air now, convulsing in agony. One Moment later her body went slack. Bellamy could hear Murphy sobbing.

"She's gone," he finally said, cutting through Murphy's haze and prompting the other to look at him. He glanced at his neck and Murphy got the message, frantically searching for the keys to open the lock. When he found them in Ontari's coat, he accomplished to release himself with shaking hands, then heaved a sigh of relief.

Afterward he crouched towards Bellamy and helped him up, being careful not to touch his wounded hand or his shoulder. "We better leave the knife where it is, before you bleed to death." Instead he ripped a piece of fabric from his shirt and built a makeshift bandage out of it. "Can you walk?" Bellamy nodded. "Then let's get the hell out of here."

They made their way down the tower unnoticed, everyone seemed to be asleep. Murphy still recognized the tunnel Roan showed him and Clarke. "Let's go home," he murmured. When Bellamy collapsed into his arms, he carried him.

"Home", there was no home, he reminded himself. Not for him. He never had one. He didn't deserve one. Then, looking down on the boy in his arms, he remembered something his father once told him: Sometimes home is not a place, sometimes home is a person.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> English is not my first language, feel free to point out mistakes or make suggestions :-)


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